Through A Beast's Soul
by Inki Feathers
Summary: What if the Beast from "Beauty and the Beast" kept a journal containing his thoughts and desires? Here is the classic fairy tale from the Beast's point of view.
1. Part I with Author Notes

**Through A Beast's Soul**

"**What if the Beast kept a journal?" I decided to write a story based off this idea. **

**DISCLAIMER: Most of the story goes on par with the original versions of the tale. I credit the main versions to Villeneuve and Leprince de Beaumont—I am just retelling!**

**Quick notes:**

**The Beast (I won't reveal his real name yet) is under supervision from a fairy named Wysandra, who is taking care of his mother, the queen (because she cannot bear to see her son in this form). As a prince, he was once under the care of her sinister aunt Calandra, who was also a fairy. These ideas were lifted from one of the original versions of the tale.**

**In one of the original "Beauty and the Beast" stories, Beauty (otherwise known as Belle) is visited in her dreams by a mysterious young man, who unbeknownst to her is actually the Beast (this happens while she is staying at his palace).**

**Belle will also be the name of "Beauty" (which it how it was in the original French version as well).**

**Other notes:**

**The Beast has a case of "selective dyslexia," which is a side effect of his curse. He is able to write and read back his writing, but any other written word will be seen as unreadable by him. Also, nobody else will be able to read his handwriting. Therefore, Belle would not be able to read the Beast's diary (to her, his entries would only look like random scribbles).**

**Most chapters will contain one journal entry. For chapters with more than one entry, the entries will be separated with the letters BBB.**

**All right, enough background info. Hope you enjoy! (Please review if you have any feedback or criticism!)**

Curse myself! Curse everything that's happened to me! But how can I? I'm already cursed. Fine, then, doubly curse me!

It's inevitable—I'm truly turning into a monster. I'm already a monster on the outside, but I'm starting to turn into one on the inside. But I couldn't help it. These roses are the only things that remain of my humanity, of the times when I was still normal and my parents were still living here. How dare someone try to take my roses away from me!

Somehow, though, I still gave him a chance to live. I was so close to slashing his throat for his ingratitude. I was so close to killing him, and yet, my humanity still prevailed. Perhaps this was because he was the first human that I had been in contact with since the fateful curse. Or perhaps the story of his unfortunate circumstances moved me in some way.

How much longer, though, will my humanity prevail? Too long have I written in the pages in this book, trying my best to preserve my humanity (I can only thank Wysandra for altering my paws so that I may pick up a pen—but after all, she was the one who suggested I write). It has been at least a year and a half, and it baffles me that I still am able to write. But what will happen the day I lose my ability? What will happen when I have finally lost my mind—my human mind—and become truly an animal? Then I won't even have the sense to pick up the pen.

I told him to bring one of his daughters to me. I don't even know why. I think I did it out of desperation. I expect him to hold his word, of course—that's how angered I am at him—but I don't expect anyone gorgeous to enter here. And even if the girl is beautiful, can I really expect her to love me?

I gave the man three months before he brought back his daughter. Somehow, though, I have faith that he will return.


	2. Part II

The man did, indeed, return. And his daughter is, indeed, beautiful. I suppose it is no surprise since her name—Belle—gives it away. But, of course, I am no stranger to names which fit the person. After all, my name means "lion" (even though I am not purely lion).

When she saw me, I could see the fear in her eyes. It has been too long since I have seen a woman, but I realized then that a woman's frightened eyes is enough to fill me with indescribable shame. I asked if she was willing to stay here, and though she said yes, I know she really did not want to. She was doing this to save her father from death, after all. A good-hearted creature, yes, but I could not believe that someone as young as she was willing to do this for him.

She will see him leave tomorrow morning, but I let the two of them pick out some items from the treasure room to give to the rest of their family. I overheard them talking since they did not shut the door completely, and they are convinced that I want to eat them. I could not help but laugh to myself at such an idea, yet I recoil in horror whenever I realize that, at any moment, it could be true.

They are now asleep, Belle in her new room, and the man in another. And here I am, sitting at my wooden desk, the claw damage more severe than ever.

I still cannot imagine how Belle will cope without her father. I remember the day when my own father died, and that was enough to toy with my emotions. And the day my mother left me left me more alone than ever. I remember the conversation she had with Wysandra.

"But he is your son, Mathilde!"

"Does it matter? My son is a man, not a beast!"

"He will be king someday."

"How can he be king? What will people think, seeing him like _this_? I'm sorry, he is my son, and I do love him, but as long as he remains this way, he cannot stay here."

I actually pity my mother when I look back on this. She nearly went insane the day she saw what I had become—her eyes bulging and her mouth about to let out a scream before she fainted out of pure shock. I admit I was angry when she forced me to leave, but my animosity towards her has faded slightly.

At least I am no longer alone, but Belle must feel such loneliness. Still, I know her father has to leave, or else I will have no chance of being freed.


	3. Part III

Belle's father left today, and I saw her crying once he did. Her sobs were soft, but I could still make them out. She retreated back to her room afterwards, and I did not see her until dinner.

Wysandra's invisible servants were quicker at meal preparation than usual. Perhaps they sensed that there was now a resident in the palace that would be staying longer than a night.

Belle arrived at the table first—I wanted to give her time to relax, and then I made my way to the dining hall. Again, her eyes drew heavy when she saw me. Of course, she must have been thinking about what I had done, how I had practically blackmailed her father into bringing her here.

Seeing her scared, I asked her, "Do you mind if I dine with you?"

"If you wish it," she said, her voice trembling.

"This is your home now," I said. "I will leave if I am a distraction to you."

"You won't be a distraction," she said.

"But I do frighten you."

She hesitated and quickly took a sip of water. I said to her, "You don't need to conceal anything here. I know you are frightened."

"Yes, I am," she replied. With that, she said no more, and I did not want to scare her too much longer, so I decided to eat with her and, once I had finished, would retreat back to my own chambers.

We had hardly begun to eat our main meal (roast beef), when Belle said, "I...I want...to..."

At once, I looked up. "Yes?"

"It's nothing," she said.

"Please speak," I said. "Nothing you say will hurt me."

"It's just...about my room..."

"Is it not to your liking?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I do like it. In fact, I wanted to thank you for everything."

"I'm glad you are happy here," I said. At once, I wanted to swallow my words. Of course she wasn't happy here. She was miserable. A nice room wouldn't do anything to make her any happier.

To my surprise, however, she responded. "Your palace is very welcoming. On the way to dinner, there was a quintet playing downstairs."

"Ah, the concert," I said. I had set this up for Belle. If there was one thing that kept me from going berserk at night, after all, it was music, and I hoped that it would work for Belle. "Did you enjoy it?"

"It was astounding," she said. "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Perhaps they will play something else after dinner," I said. "If you would like to watch them again, you may."

She gave a small smile, the first she had given me since her arrival. "I think I would like to," she said.

We continued eating, talking about music and what we liked to do. When we had finished eating dinner and dessert—fruit-filled crepes—Belle asked to be excused from dinner.

"Are you going to watch?" she asked me.

"I watch them all the time. Go and enjoy yourself," I said. I realized that I had not excused myself earlier as I said to myself I would.

She went off into the parlor to watch them, and I followed soon after she had left. When I heard the music in the parlor, however, I couldn't help but enter.

Belle was sitting on the blue satin settee. Across from her was the quintet, the familiar levitating set of instruments that I would listen to often: the two violins, the viola, the cello, and the double bass. She was quite transfixed by the sight before her.

As the quintet finished the last piece and began the next, I slowly crept into the room and sat beside her. When she noticed that someone else was present, she looked up at me, startled. That did not distract the flow of the music, but it was enough to break her concentration for a few seconds. I only looked at her quickly but turned back to watch the quintet.

We sat in silence, simply listening to the music. When the clock in the parlor struck ten, I knew that it was time for me to leave.

"I must go now," I said to her. "Stay here as long as you like."

"Thank you," said Belle. "Goodnight."

I tried to say one more thing—the question that I knew I had to ask her every night onward—but I held my tongue. All I did was bid her goodnight and headed back to my room.

Why I did not ask it tonight, I do not know why. Perhaps I knew that the question would certainly frighten her, especially since this was her first day here. It was silly of me not to try, but it was not as though she would answer "Yes" anyways.

I think I shall retire for the night. My eyelids feel unusually heavier than usual, and though I would normally stay to write more, I think this is enough for today.


	4. Part IV

Something out of the ordinary happened: Wysandra spoke to me in a dream. I am quickly writing this down because I feel I will forget if I don't. I know, though, that this really happened, despite it being a dream. It felt too real.

I was in the middle of a garden, one so beautiful that it only could have come from the work of fairies. Sure enough, standing next to a tree, was Wysandra, dressed in her usual glowing golden robes.

"I see that a woman now lives here."

"Yes," I said, "though you must forgive me for bringing her here the way I did."

"It was not tactful, I confess," she said, "but I commend you for sparing her father's life. You know what you must do each night, Léo?"

"Yes, I do," I said. Of course, I couldn't forget that.

"I will give you a gift," said Wysandra. "Whenever she dreams, she will be transported into this very garden, and she will see you in your true form. However, you will never be able to reveal your identity to her, nor will you be able to see yourself."

"Then what is the point of such as gift?" I asked her.

"You will be able to speak to her truthfully. In her dreams, you can chide her as much as you wish. You may vent your frustration, but she will respect you for it. It would not work, obviously, as you are now."

It was not the best of gifts, but I was grateful for it and thanked Wysandra. After all, at least Belle would be able to see me as myself, even if I was not able to tell her who I was.

It is now past midnight, and I know that if I go to sleep, I will probably see Belle in her dreams.

**BBB**

I can't go back to sleep. I did see her in her dream, and it is enough to keep me awake. We were both in the garden that I had been when Wysandra talked to me. Between us was a river—of course, there had to been something dividing us. It annoyed me to no end, but I still managed to speak to her. I told her to be patient and be grateful for what she had now, and soon, she would find me.

It was a dream, but there was something about her gaze so real and taken back that I felt for a moment that I must have become human once more. When I gazed at the river to see my reflection, however, there was nothing. Even when I tried to stick my paws out in front of me to see if they had changed, I could not. Belle was seeing what I couldn't see in myself.

I can hardly remember what I look like anymore. There is a room in this palace of portraits, myself included, but I cannot bear to enter it. I have already destroyed several portraits of myself before, and I promised myself that I would stay away from the room to prevent myself from doing so again. Such is unhealthy, Wysandra told me.

I wish Wysandra had been my guardian. She is just as intelligent as Calandra, if not more so. How the two are related, I will never understand. Still, I cannot look at the past. What's done is done, and I need to set out what I must accomplish.

**BBB**

I asked Belle the question last night. Of course, her answer was no. What else could I really expect? She's only known me for a day. I was ready for the animal temper inside of me to flare, but all I could feel was sheer rejection boiling inside of me.

We once again had dinner together. I have decided to limit my visits to the evenings since I fear she will only be more afraid of me if I am seen in the day. She told me that I had good taste in books, as the ones that she had in her room were very entertaining. I only replied that they were tailored to her needs—if only I could have told her that I once was able to read, but every word I read looks foreign and twisted except for the words I myself have written.

I then decided to show her the courtyard since she herself had an interest in plants. She is fond of roses, as her family had once owned a rose plantation before they had settled into hard times. As a gift to her, I plucked one of the red roses from my own bushes (clipping the thorns with my own claws) and gave it to her.

I then proceeded to ask her to marry me. There was no other way I could word the question without it offending her, so I stated it as it was. And, just as truthfully as I had asked, Belle said no. I could tell she was hesitant before answering (probably fearing I would eat her if she refused), but I reassured her that I would listen to whatever she had to say. When she said no, I only nodded and left Belle without another word, save a "Goodnight."

When I went to sleep, I found myself back in the dream forest that Wysandra had created. Belle was once again across from me. There, I let her know how I felt. I told her that I had been wronged by someone (Calandra) and could not escape my current fate.

"Please, let me help you," Belle told me.

"Just be grateful for what you have," I told her. "Never let an opportunity pass you by. Only then can I be freed."

"I wish I could do more than that," she told me.

"Don't lose sight of me, that is all I ask," I said.

She told me that she would not, and at that point, I woke up. I await the next evening, but for now, I continue to write. I wonder if she still has the rose, or if she has thrown it away in embarrassment. Was she embarrassed by my proposal? I am certain that she was, but she did not answer me in disgust nor in shame. She was frightened but not rude to me. I'd like to think she would accept, but I remain realistic. Of course she will not.


	5. Part V

I do not know what to think of Belle. She is so fragile, and yet she manages to remain joyful. This was the girl who was crying when her father left her, yet today she smiled as the concert played a jolly tune. I never arranged that at all.

Was it my doing, by telling her never to let an opportunity pass her by? I'd like to think so, but I doubt it. Before I even spoke to her in the dream about it, she was already enthralled by the books in her room.

She is also quite a curious creature. This evening, she asked me why she only saw me in the evenings. That question shook me a little since I had not told her the reasons for hiding myself in the mornings. I simply answered that I went out onto the grounds, trying to imply that I hunted, even though I have not touched an animal since that rat that I found lurking beneath my desk.

So far, she has already visited a multitude of rooms (I have kept the location of mine secret, though by enchantment the door has been made invisible to her eyes). My fur stood on ends when she told me she had gone to the portrait gallery, but she told me she had no idea who the people in the picture were. I knew she was lying, of course, as my own portraits are in there. Perhaps she left this fact out to prevent me from knowing whom she was seeing in her dreams each night. She also asked me if there was a dungeon in the palace. I told her that there was one, but never would I let her enter it.

Once again, I asked her my question, and once again, she said no. I will go to sleep and be in the forest once again with her, but it saddens me that I still can only talk indirectly about myself.

**BBB**

Tonight was quite a different evening. During dinner, Belle asked if I was free during the afternoon. When I asked her why, she told me that she was feeling lonely at luncheon and would not mind any company. I couldn't believe Belle was asking me—_me—_for company. I thought that I would be the only one asking, but indeed, she requested my presence. Such a thought continues to baffle me.

"I would be greatly honored," she told me.

Yet, when I asked her to marry me again, she said no. I wanted to ask her why, but at this point, I think I should probably understand her reasons. After all, I am a monster.

Nevertheless, I cannot view her with animosity. She has borne her stay well, and we are becoming well-acquainted.


	6. Part VI

I met Belle for lunch, exactly at twelve o'clock as she suggested. She smiled when I entered—a hopefully positive sign. Lunch was composed of soup and bread. We talked about music and books, and I invited her to visit the library with me.

I was scared as to what my reaction would be when we reached the library, but Belle was happy to read out loud when she saw that I was struggling with the words. At last, I could hear stories that I had not heard since my ability to read was taken from me, and I savored every detail.

Since there was also a harpsichord in the next room, Belle was willing to play a few pieces. Her hands are small, but her playing was precise and pleasant. I shied away when she asked me if I knew any songs, so she sang one herself. Then, as she was about to play a new tune, I barked at her to stop playing at once. In shock, she excused herself from the piano, but I hastily apologized for my rashness before she could leave and suggested we go back to reading.

Could I help it that the tune she was about to play was the one Calandra used to sing to me when I was under her care? How it still gives me nightmares! How often I've tried to forget that right after she sang that song one evening, she grabbed my fervently and tried to pull me into an unwilling embrace.

But I cannot forget it. That was the last time she ever sang that song to me. And her anger at my rejection—that and my mother's interference—was what caused her to place this curse upon me.

I still can't believe Belle forgave me for my rudeness, as I explained to her that the song she was about to play was one I did not like at all, and that it was my fault for interrupting her out of my own selfishness.

"I am such a stupid creature," I admitted.

"Please, don't say that," she said. "You are already more noble than many other men in the world. A small loathing does not entirely make up someone."

"But there are other things that I loathe in the world, more than just songs," I said.

"And yet you hardly ever complain about them," she said. "That, to me, is noble."

Belle called me "noble." I am of noble blood, but no one has ever called me "noble."

After we read a bit more, Belle wanted to visit the portrait gallery, but I insisted that I had to retreat back to my quarters to prepare for dinner. She said that she would do the same as well.

Over dinner, we talked more about her life at home, before her father lost his money. We talked about her rose garden and the dances she once used to attend. Upon saying that she missed dances, I immediately told her that I could prepare a dance for her one day. It would only be the two of us, I explained, but Belle was enthusiastic about the idea.

Once again, we went back out into the courtyard of roses, and once again, she rejected my proposal, and once again, we bid ourselves goodnight.


	7. Part VII

Belle and I met once again during the day. I think I am getting more accustomed to this practice. She especially loves feeding the birds.

We went to see the quintet this evening. After listening to a sprightly dance tune, Belle asked me if I had ever danced before. I told her that I could, even though I was not that good at it. She told me that it was fine and that she would be happy to teach me.

"Are you requesting that I hold a dance?" I asked her.

"Oh no, not at all," she said.

"It would not be any trouble," I told her.

"But I know you are not fond of parties," said Belle. At once, I understood her meaning. She did not want me to deal with other people, in fear they might see me.

Quickly, I told her, "It would just be the two of us. I will order my servants to have the ballroom made. We will both dress up, and we will dance as the quintet plays." Then, I added, "Will this make you happy? Or is there anything else I should do?"

"No—that would be wonderful!" said Belle. She was not hiding anything in her voice. She truly sounded happy.

"Very well. We shall have it in three days." I added, in shame, that I would need time to clean it since it was very filthy. Belle told me, in response, that that would be fine.

When she bid me goodnight, she took my hand and stroked it. I felt a strange feeling over me, like shivers coursing through my fur. But it was pleasant. I don't think I have ever had this feeling before. What is it?

**BBB**

I can no longer deny the thought to myself anymore. The more time Belle and I spend together, the more I want to be with her. Yes, I must say it now: I think I am falling in love with her.

Have I ever been in love before? I don't remember. I know I've feared seduction ever since that fateful day, but Belle is not even trying to get my attentions.

How strange it is. Before, asking for her hand was a chore, something that I expected to do every night with the hope that one day, she might say yes and free me. But now, every night I am begging for her to set me free, begging that she might one day fall in love with me in return. And yet that is such a hopeless prospect.

But the longing inside me is too great. My animalistic urge is on the brink of taking over, and I want more than anything to touch her face and stroke her hair, to actually feel them rather than have my padded paws deaden my nerves.

_I_ have become the seducer. I have become the one who looks at her longingly as she enters the room and desires her with such passion. And my attempts are failing.


	8. Part VIII

Tonight was the dance that we had planned together. Trying to brush my fur was a maddening task. I used a shoe brush, which luckily did not break from my strength.

The gown that Belle wore tonight was lovely beyond words. It was red, like the roses in my courtyard. Fairy-made dresses will always be beautiful. Belle, however, outshone the dress in every aspect. We dined and then we danced. My steps were clumsy, of course, but Belle was patient as always.

At long last, we retreated back into the courtyard. It was there I told Belle, for the first time, that I loved her. I figured that I had nothing to lose, considering I was already constantly asking for her hand in marriage. She told me she loved me as her dear _friend_. I knew she would say this, but the words still sliced into me. Once more, she said she would not marry me when I asked her.

I asked that night in the dream why she constantly kept refusing the proposal of her beast. "He is indeed kind," she said, and I could tell through her voice that she had trouble answering. "but I simply do not want to marry him. That is all."

Oh Belle, why must you leave me in this tense state? What must I do for you to accept me? Wasn't the dance enough for you, or is there something else?

**BBB**

Belle and I had lunch together again. While she did talk to me, she said fewer words than she usually did. I am certain that she is tired because of the dance last night. Perhaps she will be less tired tonight. I shall wait and see.


	9. Part IX

Belle has left me.

We were talking after dinner in the courtyard, and I asked her to marry me again.

"No, Beast," she said again.

Once more, my frustration was high. "Belle, you know I would do anything for you," I said to her, trying to keep as calm as I could. "Is everything to your liking here, or is there something that I haven't done yet for you?"

"Everything's fine," she said. At once, I saw her look away sadly.

"What's the matter?" I asked her. She had been this way during dinner too.

"Something's wrong with my father," she said, and I immediately knew she had been using the looking glass recently. "He's ill, and I'm worried about him."

At this point, I could not bear to see her unhappy. However, I wanted her so badly that I could not bear to lose her.

"Belle, if you want to see your father, I will let you."

"Do you really mean it?" she said, her eyes widening. I was just as shocked with myself for saying it.

"Yes, you may go." Then, because of my bitterness, I added, "Leave your Beast in agony." At once, I realized that what I said was insulting, and I said to her, "I'm sorry, Belle. But I'm so used to seeing you that I don't know what will happen if I do not."

"Perhaps I should stay with my father for one week," Belle said, "I promise that I will return once the week is over."

"One week is good enough," I told her. With that, I took the ring that Wysandra had given me long ago out of my jacket pocket and placed it upon her finger. "This is a magic ring," I told her. "Wear it before you go to bed, and when you wake up, you shall be in your room at home."

"Thank you so dearly!" Belle said, and with that she tenderly kissed my furry cheek. She meant it as a kiss of friendship, but I was so tempted to kiss her back.

Before she left, I told her to gather items from the treasure chamber so she could distribute them to her family.

I slept for a little while and was transported into the dream garden once again. There, I was ready to vent my anguish.

"How could you do this?" I said. "How could you treat your Beast so cruelly?"

"It will not take long," Belle said patiently to my harsh complaint. "I promised to return to him after one week."

"Are you certain you will keep this promise?"

"Of course," she said, "for I would not dare hurt him. He has been so good to me."

Soon after she had said this, I awoke, and it was morning. Thus, here I am alone. By now, Belle is gone, and I wait eagerly for her return.


	10. Part X

Third day of her departure and something strange is happening to me. She's on my mind every day and every night. I don't understand—I'm in love with her, but I didn't think that it would go this far. Why do I miss her so much?

I am waiting longingly for the week to end. I've already spent time looking back through the books we read together and wishing she would be there to read them back to me. I watch the nightly concerts but without any thrill.

**BBB**

It has been a week, and still my beloved Belle is gone. Why, oh why have you deserted me? I cannot see you in my dreams since you are away, and I am losing faith in you.

My strength is diminishing. I eat, but somehow, I still remain languid. What has this curse done to me? Do I grow weaker each day I do not see Belle? I have gone out walking in the courtyard to replenish my energy, but when I return back indoors, I remain as weak as I was before.

Now, I can only beg for Belle to come back.

**BBB**

I can hardly write anymore. I know I am dying, and no one is here to reassure me. Even Wysandra has not appeared to me.

I shall go to the courtyard for some air. Perhaps a walk will help me feel better.

Belle, where are you?


	11. Part XI

At last, it is over.

No words can express how I feel right now. A great burden has lifted. I even feel lighter.

I recall falling over in the courtyard in great pain. I must have been lying there for a long time, but I suddenly saw Belle come towards me. At that point, I was only happy to see her again. I think I said something along the lines of, "Belle, you've made your Beast so happy. I am content to see you for one last time."

My strength was gone, and I closed my eyes, but I managed to hear Belle say the words that I could not believe she said: "No, please live to be my husband."

At that point, I felt a strange sensation, as though a great ray of light was shining over me. It was strong, but it wasn't painful. In fact, the pain that I was feeling before vanished. I don't remember falling asleep in those quick moments, but I thought that I must have, because I suddenly felt like I had woken up from a long dream.

Belle was standing far away from me, looking terrified. I knew, of course, what she had done, but I looked down at my paws to be sure and almost cried out in surprise when I saw that they were human hands once more.

I quickly got up to my feet, my energy replenished. I walked towards her carefully so not to scare her even more (while getting used to my smaller feet) and asked her, "Do you know who I am?"

She trembled as she spoke, "Yes, but where is he? Where is my Beast?"

"You are looking at him." And then, I went to explain everything that had happened to me in the past and how she had broken the spell.

Belle, having been amazed by all of this, asked me, "Is there something else I can call you—something other than 'Beast'?" I told her my real name— Léo —but that she could still call me Beast if she felt more comfortable with it.

In addition, I said, "Bear in mind that I mainly asked you to marry me because it was the only way to undo the curse. It is your decision whether you truly wish to marry me or not."

"I know that I do," she said, and Belle placed her hand upon my face, the first human touch I felt in a long time. Overjoyed, I was finally able to kiss her.

However, we heard a sound draw closer—it was Wysandra and my mother, in a carriage. Wysandra came to congratulate Belle, and my mother asked for my forgiveness, which I granted as long as she accepted Belle as my equal, which she was more than willing to do.

Belle and I shall marry in a week. In that time, she will introduce me to her family. It will be slightly awkward to face the old man that I had threatened, but I am willing to take whatever he places on me.

Even stranger is that I can no longer read my old entries in this journal. What were once readable words are nothing but scribbles and slashes. I have become separate from my own curse.

But I know that I do not have to write in here any longer. This journal was a way for me to express feelings that I could not express to anyone else. But I no longer have to hide anything.

I am a free man.


End file.
